


After A Storm

by peachmilktea



Series: Alternative Methods [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, I'm Sorry, Ridiculous crossover shenanigans, no idea what I'm doing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachmilktea/pseuds/peachmilktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Namine does not understand weather patterns, thin dresses, or starting a fire. She does understand being walked home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After A Storm

**Author's Note:**

> The most interesting things come out of drive-by roleplay threads. But since there was no continuing it, there is fanfiction. Huzzah.

What had made her think that leaving so late in the evening to pick up groceries was a smart idea? To her credit the snow had been present at the time but was no serious threat. She pulled on a coat and a scarf and went quickly, but when she made it out of the store and back down the path she came, nature decided to give her a good smack in the face. What was once a gentle snow fall had become a growing torrent, barely manageable when she began to walk and growing worse with each step. 

A mile separates her from home, and while Namine has become used to the length the blistering cold is an unfair disadvantage. When she manages to spot the half broken down shack near the river Namine pushes her creaking limbs inside, falling into a corner and curling up into herself. It isn't the best shelter but it keeps the wind and falling bits of ice away from her. Her meager bag of groceries sits beside her and balefully, she realizes that bread and some candy may not have been worth all of this trouble. The castle had always been quiet, there was nothing to suggest weather patterns or even natural sunlight, maybe there wasn't any getting used to this world. 

Arms around her knees, Namine presses her forehead down and tries to repress the oncoming bout of shivers. She doesn't want to find out if a Nobody can die from the cold, but her jacket is soaked through and useless, and the dress underneath is flimsy and stuck to her skin. She just has to make it through the storm and then everything will be all right. This isn't the worst thing she has faced, just the most intimidating so far. 

But the same door that she had come through is pushed open, allowing a whole new wave of cold air while she looks up, more concerned with the stranger int he doorway then the growing possibility of an illness. His steps are heavy and deliberate, but her 'guest' shuts the door with purpose. With no light, it's impossible to see his face but she can make out traces of his clothing. A hood, white and blue, a bow and arrow. He isn't one of those men in the red coats at least.

"Are you all right?" 

It takes her a moment to answer, just enough to make the air between them awkward, maybe. It's just that he does not sound like anyone else she has heard. His voice is not rough and blunt like the people of New York. It is something that Namine could never mistake and never forget. 

Her neck aches, but she nods anyway, "Just cold." 

The wind rages and creates eerie songs through the holes in their decrypt haven. If the situation gets any worse Namine wonders if the walls will collapse on them. But what else is there to do? A grown man couldn't make it through and so she doesn't have much of a chance at all. A momentary silence aside, he begins to wander, inspecting corners, looking for something without much regard for her. This world and its customs are mysterious, and Namine had been alone with Axel, Marluxia and the other members, but to be alone in a possibly life threatening situation is different. 

With his arms full, he sits towards the middle of the floor, near a section of particularly rotted wood. Arms folded into herself, Namine watches as he begins to hack it away. Creating a hole in the ground, the sticks and modest wood that he gathered is arranged inside, and though it takes a few tries the beginnings of a fire crawl up the branches.

"This should help." 

If he was going to hurt her, he would have already done it. Or maybe this show of abilities was a smokescreen, an attempt at comfort to lull her into a sense of ease? There was nothing to suggest otherwise but Namine scoots closer to the fire despite the possibilities. Resting her fingers near it, they sit in an easy silence, one that does not push a conversation. As the feeling returns to her hands and arms Namine looks over at him but with the hood up his features are impossible to make out. 

"Thank you," Her words are very simple but Namine is grateful. She couldn't have made a fire the way he had, so effortless as if it were bred into him. 

Heat settling into her bones, there is no helping the wave of exhaustion that makes her eyes heavy and mind dull. Her companion only moves when needed, to find more wood or to settle himself. They do not speak and that is just fine. Namine should not sleep, she should not lie down on the creaking wood with her half-damp clothes, but she does. 

In the morning, the birds chirp and sing just loud enough to make her aware of the violent throbbing in her neck. The smell of smoke is briefly overwhelming as Namine sits up, squeezes her eyes and then blinks them open and back into focus. The man is gone, the fire recently extinguished. Her groceries remain at her side, everything in tact and accounted for, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. It shouldn't surprise her, and it should be enough that she's safe. But somehow it isn't.

Standing, Namine adjusts her coat, takes her bag, and steps outside. A fine, thick layer of snow covers everything, but the sun still shines and the world around her refutes the existence of winter. Her modest little home is in barely within sight and the rest of the trip is going to leave her half wet again, but she manages. Stepping inside and putting her bag down, Namine looks up in time to catch a streak of blue and white, tree branches yielding to a grown mans weight. 

Instantly, Namine regrets never asking his name.


End file.
